The Light Beneath The Storm
Dusk slowly draped the coast in velvet hush, the sea roaring just beyond the cliff's edge.
Mira stood at the window, staring at the horizon as the sky shifted in strange patterns. The lighthouse was the only home they had ever known, and yet, as she looked out over the vast, empty sea, she couldn't help but wonder if it was time to leave it all behind.
The ceremony for their grandfather's disappearance had been held just hours ago—quiet, polite, and full of words that meant nothing. Presumed lost at sea. But Mira, still focused on her sight outside, prayed that his silhouette would cut through the mist any moment now.
"Are you done packing?" Elias called out from behind as he knocked on the wooden doorframe.
Mira merely responded with a nod and rubbed her arms, catching the cool downdraft. "It's gonna rain soon."
The lighthouse had seen worse storms before—storms that bent trees and swallowed ships whole—but tonight, its howling carried a strange, restless edge.
"Why can't we just—" stay "—leave the day after tomorrow?" She muttered, her voice barely above whisper as she plopped on the bed.
They were leaving in the morning—moving inland to live with relatives, away from the lighthouse, away from everything their grandfather had left behind.
Elias sighed and rubbed his temples, staring out the window. "Look, Pops is gone—" A moment too late, his words slipped out before he could stop them.
The girl only whimpered, her puffy eyes rimmed red with welling tears once again.
He walked towards her, his pace steady as his mind was still mulling over what he said. He wasn't sure when the weight of their world had settled on his shoulders.
Was it when their parents died? And why had no one noticed?
"I'm sorry," he began, his voice thoughtful, "I should've—" Elias didn't notice the disheveled stack of boxes until his arm grazed them, causing the topmost one to topple over with a loud clatter.
Mira was quick on her feet and shoved the box upright before all its contents could spill out. Her hands moved fast—too fast—stuffing loose items back inside, biting her lips as she angled the lid just enough to keep them hidden.
"Easy there! If I didn't know any better, you look like you're hiding something." He teased, steadying the remaining stack.
Mira shifted uncomfortably, her fingers subtly tightened around the edges of the lid, praying her brother wouldn't notice.
"Okay, c'mere." He pulled her up and tousled her hair.
"I'm sorry, Mir, really." He uttered, "I know it's hard but I'm here, we're still here—Finn and I." Elias coughed lightly, "If you need someone to talk to, just tell me. Alright?"
"Got it." She nodded, fixing her hair haphazardly. He pulled her in an awkward side hug, patting her arm.
Silence enveloped them for a minute.
"You know what," Mira cleared her throat, "You're really bad at this." She wrinkled her nose and elbowed him, stifling a smile from her brother's awkward consolation.
"You know what," Elias chuckled. "I'm starting to think you're really hiding something."
Her heart dropped but she forced a casual shrug. "Or, you're just being nosy as usual."
He gasped, pressing a hand to his chest as if it offended him. "Aha! That's exactly what I would say if I'm hiding stuff!"
"Go away before I'll stuff you in a box!" She rolled her eyes and didn't hesitate. With a swift motion, she grabbed a nearby pillow and hurled it at his face.
He blinked, then burst out laughing. "See? Unprovoked aggression. Definitely suspicious behavior." He said, wagging his finger in the air with each word as he smiled mischievously.
"Whatever."
"Let's see what you're hiding here." Elias was about to pry a box open.
"Alright then," Mira forced a grin— hoping it didn't come off too stiff. "Catch!" She yelled as she tossed him a sanitary pad.
Elias shrieked as it hit him and bolted for the door. "Blargh!"
He blew raspberries and hurriedly disappeared before Mira could throw him another piece.
She shook her head and sighed inwardly, stuffing the pads back. Her eyes darted to a journal inside; the melancholy coming back. She trailed her fingers idly over the worn leather cover. The words inside were burned into her mind—pages filled with theories, diagrams, and maps her grandfather had spent his life obsessing over.
She had packed them herself secretly, with the most important ones hidden at the bottom of her trunk.
Her brothers thought she had only taken a few sentimental keepsakes, but if she could fit all of their grandfather's work in the boxes, she would.
If Elias knew she had been reading them for years, he would worry. If Finn knew, he would ask too many questions.
They wouldn't understand.
Her thoughts were interrupted when a sudden crack of lightning struck outside, making the lights stutter as she hastily put the box away. The power had already flickered twice in the last hour as the storm was brewing.
Rain has started to batter the windows in frantic bursts, and the wind howled around the house like it was trying to claw its way inside.
Another lightning ripped the sky, its blinding flash followed by a deafening roar of thunder. The lights exploded, plunging the room into complete darkness and the hum of the electricity fading into an eerie quiet.
Mira hurriedly searched for her phone. Her hands fumbled across the bed, fingers brushing against the sheets and pillows, desperate to find it.
For a moment, everything was silent but the drumming of rain and the groaning wind. Then—a piercing scream sliced through the storm, briefly freezing her in place.
"Finn." Her heart lurched as the sound echoed in her ears, sending her to a frenzied search. Finally gripping the phone—she bolted across the room as she shouted her little brother's name, not a second to lose.
Mira's breath caught as she stumbled upon Elias. "Where is he?! My phone's not working!"
"Mine too! He's not in the living room or the kitchen." He was catching his breath as well.
"I've already checked upstairs—no sign of him."
"The study!"
Another rumble of thunder shook the old maritime house as they raced in the hallway, lit only by flashes of lightning that briefly shed light on the peeling wallpaper and familiar shadows. The door to their grandfather's study was cracked open.
Finn was inside, standing by the desk, his back to them.
The room was nearly empty—just a dusty desk, a lone bookshelf, and the faint scent of old wood and parchment remained. Everything else had been packed away.
"Finn!" Elias reached him first, grabbing his shoulder. "What happened?! Are you hurt?"
Finn clutched something at his chest, his face pale in the dim light.
"What are you doing here?" Mira asked, voice sharp with worry.
For a moment, Finn just stared at them, breathing hard. Then, hesitantly, he uncurled his fingers—revealing the small glass shard hanging from his neck.
"It kept flashing earlier so I went here to..." Finn stared at the pendant, which pulsed with a soft, ethereal light. "...to calm it down."
"This usually does the trick, but instead, it got really really bright when I stepped in here." Finn whispered, looking at them, expecting an answer. "And for a second, I thought... I thought I saw something in the corner."
"What, what are you talking about?" Mira asked in confusion.
Her stomach twisted. The pendant—an aetherglass, gifted to Finn by their grandfather long ago—never lit up.
"I... I think it reacted to something," Finn said, lifting the shining necklace towards them.
"Stop, stop. Reacted to what? What did you see?" Elias rambled, thinking—hoping for a rational explanation.
Finn sighed. "I just thought I saw something, alright? I don't think there's really—"
"Wait, wait, wait, Finn. We're actually talking about that!" Mira exclaimed, pointing at the pendant. "That!"
He frowned in response. "What about it?"
"What do you mean 'what about it'? That thing freaking—"
"Glows." Elias interrupted, both confused and in awe. The clear shard still looked the same—smooth and remarkable, beautiful on its own—but even more so now that it's illuminating a bluish light.
Mira stepped closer, her gaze narrowing on the pendant. "It's never glow before."
She and Elias had seen it a thousand times but not once did it glimmer with light. Their grandfather had never mentioned anything unusual about it either. But Finn was looking at them like they were the strange ones.
He was dumbfounded. "Huh?"
Elias and Mira exchanged a look.
Then, Finn let out a short, incredulous laugh. "Wait—do you never see it glow?"
"No," Mira said carefully. "Finn... aetherglass—it doesn't light up, in bright color too."
"Yes, it does!" Finn had never questioned their grandfather why the pendant glowed. He had thought it was normal.
Silence stretched between them.
Finn's voice was quiet now, almost uncertain. "But it really does. It always has, especially in the dark."
He paced back and forth as if he's trying to make some sense. "Well, for one, it really does glow as you guys can see."
"But not like this. Not this bright." Finn furrowed his brow.
"Stop, stop right there." Mira instructed, halting Finn's strides.
Ten, twenty seconds, and a couple of lightning and thunders— "Go, move." She instructed again.
The light flickered, indeed—seesawing between bright and dim. Mira was deep in thought, her heart hammering.
"So, it really does react to something in the room." Elias deduced.
Mira swallowed hard and turned to the empty bookshelf in the corner, bolted in place. Her grandfather used it for storage—nothing important, and the wall behind it is already adjacent to the lighthouse. If her hunch is right...
"Bring him over here," she murmured.
Elias hesitated but guided Finn forward. The moment they neared the bookshelf, the light surged brighter than they'd ever seen it as a faint click echoed behind the wood.
All three of them froze.
"Did you hear that?" Finn whispered.
Elias nodded slowly.
Mira was already running her fingers along the edges of the shelf. "It's not just a bookshelf..."
With a hesitant push, she pressed against the side. A soft groan echoed through the room as the shelf creaked forward, billowing dust into the air.
A sliver of shadowed space appeared behind it. A doorway—hidden in plain sight.
They stared in silence.
The air that drifted out was cool and damp, heavy with the scent of forgotten things—salt, metal, and something older. Stagnant. Musty.
Beyond the frame was a stone staircase winding downward, deeper into the lighthouse.
"No way," Finn breathed, his voice dripping with excitement and anticipation.
"There's a whole part of the lighthouse we've never seen," Mira whispered.
Elias stepped forward slowly, gaze fixed on the shadows below. "Why would Pops hide this?"
A flash of lightning struck outside—and for one breathless instant, the aetherglass flared brilliantly, casting light to the stone steps and sending fractured reflections dancing along the walls.
They briefly looked at each other then back to the void underneath.
Mira's pulse pounded in her ears. She was right—the shard reacts to lightning and something that's buried down there.
She swallowed hard, stepping inside the hidden passage. She had spent years quietly poring over their grandfather's work, hoping—believing—that Astheria was real.
And now, something was leading them deeper.
She looked back at her brothers, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her.
"I think we're meant to follow it."